Beloved
by Tarma Hartley
Summary: Alexios makes his way to a lonely grave on the outskirts of the Chora of Delphi...


**A/N: FREAKIN AWESOME AND AMAZING THUMBNAIL ARTWORK, ALEXIOS FROM ASSASSIN'S CREED: ODYSSEY, IS BY lisazamart ON TWITTER AND IS USED WITH HER KIND PERMISSION! THANKS! :)**  
**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_Alexios makes his way to a lonely grave on the outskirts of the Chora of Delphi...  
_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

This little ficlet was inspired by an **AMAZING AND FREAKING AWESOME** art piece by Lisa Zaman! I dedicate this fic to her, with grateful thanks! :)

Hope you enjoy!

Rated T, Angst, Alexios x Lykaon, male/male relationships, Assassin's Creed: Odyssey  
**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_October 20th  
Outside of the Chora of Delphi  
Ancient Greece  
429 B.C.  
7 P.M._

The sky was dark, a thin sliver of watery moonlight shining down on the lone figure below, making his way toward the burial site some distance away. A soft breeze blew, fluttering the crisp, orange leaves on the trees lining the side of the road, kicking up small puffs of dust along with the hem of his himation slapping against his ankles.

Alexios sighed as he made his way slowly up the hill, his hazel eyes fixed on the small grassy knoll ahead of him. His left arm hung limply at his side, his hand tightly clutching the iron ring that was attached to a small lantern, his right cuddling the top of his sword pommel absentmindedly. His thoughts remained fixed on some distant place as he walked, dried leaves that littered the road in every direction crunching underneath his sandals.

_How strange that I should be in the Chora when I swore that I would never come here again three years ago,_ he thought, his hair blowing softly across the back of his neck as he continued his slow meandering down the dirt road, Ikaros flying somewhere overhead. _How things change...and, yet, still they manage to stay the same._

He continued on his way until he reached the bottom of the soft knoll, stopping before the slight dip in the earth that told him that it led upward. Alexios swallowed hard as he saw the soft rise coming up to meet him, his heart spasming in pain.

He felt tears forming in the corners of his eyes as he saw the finely carved marble headstone at its crest, trees forming an honor guard in a semi-circle behind it.

_It's been six years and your loss is still fresh, even after all this time._ He stood there for a few minutes more before he drew in a shaky breath, squaring his shoulders. He lifted his foot and took a shaky step forward, forcing himself to take another one, then another and, then another, climbing the hill slowly. _This is the first time I've been back in three years..._

The lantern threw out soft shadows on the grass and Alexios couldn't help but think of his time in the Underworld: the things he had seen, the lost souls that he had helped, Charon, the enigmatic boatman of the Styx, ferrying souls across that dead river, Posiedon...it all came back to him in a rush.

_It seems like a lifetime ago..._ His jaw clenched as he thought of the Staff of Hermes Trismegistus strapped onto his back beside his Hades bow, his sword hanging from his belt on his left side. _Now he walks the Underworld and I..._

Grief rose up to engulf him. _No._ He shook his head hard, a soft moan rising in his throat, sorrowfully repeating "ela, ela" rising to his lips; he tried to hold back the tears but it was useless as he felt them slide down his cheeks. _No... I...I...can't...!_

He swallowed once again, the lump of sorrow in his throat so large it threatened to choke him. _Six years and it still hurts._ He sc=ubbed them away with shaking, impatient fingers._ Healer...why did you leave me?_

The headstone loomed large in front of him; with a start, he realized that he had made his way to the top of the knoll without his even realizing it. He stared at it in silence, his eyes flickering over the carved words: **Lykaon, Physician in the Chora of Delphi, Beloved of Alexios** and the dates of his birth and death.

He was on a job in Athens when he'd received news that Lykaon had come down with the sickness that was ravaging the countryside and had hurried home only to receive the terrible news from Timon, with tears in his eyes, that he had died the day before his arrival.

The old man and his wife were close friends of both Alexios and Lykaon, watching over the Physician in his absence. They had sent for Alexios as soon as he'd become infected with the plague and had done everything they could for him but it was in vain; he died on the evening of October eighteenth, with Penelope and Timon at his side, Alexios' name on his lips as he closed his eyes forever, his arm falling lifelessly to lay on the blanket that covered him.

Alexios didn't remember much after learning of Lykaon's passing; the pain and sorrow that engulfed him after hearing the terrible news cut him to the quick, loud, piercing screams torn from deep within. His knees shook before they gave out and he would have fallen to the floor if Timon hadn't caught him, the old man holding him close as he wept bitter tears.

He didn't know how long he remained in this state, his memory shrouded in fog, the pain too much for him to bear. He was grateful for both Timon and Penelope's tender care and for the comfort that Hippokrates gave him freely as he stayed by his side and cared for him.

A_t least he rests in a beautiful place... Why...Gods, why?!_ With a muffled sob and his eyes fixed firmly on the stone, he stepped forward, his right arm lifting, the tips of his fingers sliding off of the pommel and pressing them against the smoothly carved stone._ Oh Lykaon... Beloved! I was too late...too late to save you...!_

The day after they had buried him, Alexios had left, swearing that he would never come back, resisting both Timon and Penelope's repeated pleas for him to stay, making his way into the mountains.

He'd made himself a small home there, taking odd jobs here and there while he dealt with his grief as best he could. He'd remained in near isolation, only venturing to the Chora when he had to despite the searing pain it caused him.

He'd stopped coming three years ago and had remained in his small house alone with his memories and Lykaon's beloved ghost. Now, after all this time, he had returned home...and to everything he'd tried to escape, the memories it represented. And to Lykaon.

_Beloved..._ He lowered his head and wept, resting his forehead against the stone while the moon's rays flaring brilliantly as they surrounded the misthios and his beloved's grave. Ikaros winged his way gently down to him, softly trilling his own dirge as he gently landed on the mercenary's shoulder.

**.:FIN:.**


End file.
